


Man Behind The Microphone

by Geekygirl24, Huntress79



Series: Marvel OTPs [29]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Actors, Bucky Barnes Has Issues, Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov Friendship, Deaf Clint Barton, Journalism, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-04
Updated: 2019-08-04
Packaged: 2020-07-31 08:56:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20112490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Geekygirl24/pseuds/Geekygirl24, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Huntress79/pseuds/Huntress79
Summary: When Clint is pulled out of retirement to interview the up and coming actor, James 'Bucky' Barnes, he never expected to get past "Hello, Clint Barton from- "Bucky hates journalists. So why does this one make him feel alive?





	Man Behind The Microphone

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Huntress79](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Huntress79/gifts).

> My submission for the WinterHawk Reverse Bang 2019 :)
> 
> The art (Found here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20112265) is done by the wonderful Huntress79, who was a huge help during the story writing process, so i thank them for that :)
> 
> Beta: Michael Bian

Clint groaned as he felt the vibrations of his pillow.

He knew he never should have let Nat set up his phone and alarm to this thing.

Reaching over in the vague direction of where his phone should be, he started to curse under his breath.

It was still dark outside.

Unacceptable!

Whoever was calling him clearly had a death wish.

After knocking the phone off the side of the bed in his fumbling, and then falling off the bed and hitting his head on the bedside table in his attempt to get it, shoving a hearing aid into his ear, he finally answered the call.

“I don’t know who you are, but I will find you and I will- “

“- And you will what?”

Wincing, Clint glanced at the screen and saw Nat’s name, along with a sneaky photo he’d taken of her. “Oh…. Hey Nat.”

“Get up.” She ordered, “You’re going out today. We’ve got the biggest interview opportunity for you.”

“Ummmm…. I’m retired remember? No more rubbing elbows with the finest; just archery, pizza and fixing up this crappy place.”

“Clint… it has to be you.”

“Why?”

“Because Barnes has alienated every other reporter who ever booked an interview with him.”

Instantly, Clint was wide awake. “Barnes? As in, James Barnes? Steve’s the designated reporter for him, because nobody can hate Steve. It’s a crime, I’m sure of it.”

“And Steve is on paternity leave, remember?”

Oh yeah. Tony had had a few months with their new son, Peter and now it was Steve’s turn.

“Why me though?” He wasn’t whining… not really, “What about Bruce?”

“Bruce nearly hit Barnes; we can’t risk that.” Nat sighed wearily, “Look, I know you didn’t want to do this anymore, especially not after Phil. But I really needed you right now маленькая птица.”

Clint flung his arm over his eyes, wincing internally at the nickname.

Nat knew it was his weakness, and if she was willing to admit that she needed his help, then it must be serious.

“What time and where?” he asked, already regretting giving in.

“Nine tonight… at the red-carpet event. Which means you have to wear something smart.”

“Aww, but- “

“Clint. Wear. Something. Smart.”

“Alright, alright! I’ll be there and smart and all that… but you owe me.”

“I’ll go easy on you during our training sessions. Now be there for quarter to nine, that should give you enough time to settle in.”

“Got it.”

“And Clint?”

“Yes Nat?”

“Behave.”

“Only if he does.”

………………………………………………………………………….

“Behave Bucky, please?” Steve sighed wearily, the sound of a baby crying in the background, “I know it’s not me but- “

“- Yeah, yeah. I got it.”

Bucky huffed, ending the phone call and tossing the phone to the foot of his mattress. He could behave…. He most certainly could behave, no matter what Steve seemed to think.

He was never rude to a reporter unless they gave him cause to be.

Like Rumlow. Rumlow had pushed and pushed and pushed about his accident, even daring to poke at his metal arm. He deserved what he got, and even though the word ‘volatile’ was used to describe him for the next few months, Bucky didn’t regret doing what he did.

Unless Steve gave him those puppy dogs eyes, combined with the pleading voice. Then he felt a little bit guilty.

“Dammit.” He muttered to himself, “Dammit, dammit, dammit.”

He missed being a C-list actor. Someone who people would know by face and not by face (meaning that they couldn’t just call out to him in the middle of the street… he just wanted to buy plums in peace).

He’d spent most of the day training for his next big role. The suit for the night was hung up on his wardrobe door, ready for him to wear. After dressing and running his fingers through his hair, Bucky decided it was all the effort the press were going to get from him.

Instead of calling for a driver like other actors, he climbed onto his motorbike and was gone. Upon arriving, deciding to park his bike around the back of the building and sneak in with the rest of the cast, he winced at the volume of the crowd.

Even from where he was, he could hear them.

The event hadn’t even started yet, and already, it was starting to be too much for him. He loved his fans, he truly did, but there was a difference between fans, and those who probed into his personal life. There was a different between a person who appreciated his work, and an obsessive stalker.

As he approached the red carpet, he sighed in relief as bodyguards instantly moved to protect him. On the sides of the carpet, he could see the various members of the press, gearing up their cameras and checking on their equipment.

He took a deep breath. He tried to tell himself that it would be okay, that he just needed to smile, answer and few questions, and then he could sneak away after the film viewing. However, there was always the sickening, sinking feeling that came with being treated like a caged animal at the circus.

Bucky tried to take him time as the bright lights flashed all around him, working hard to school his face into a relaxed, easy-going expression. He didn’t clench his teeth, he didn’t dig his nails into his palms, he made sure he was smiling and the ‘murder look’ was nowhere to be seen.

Everything was going to go well.

Steve was going to be proud of him, and that would be that.

After taking and signing a few pictures with the fans, Bucky moved to head into the building. Nobody had reached out to him yet, which meant that hopefully, the press had got the message.

Leave him alone.

The perfect dream was cut short however, when someone bumped into him, causing him to stumble to the side slightly.

“Oh!”

Bucky spun around and glared at whoever bumped into him, the glare deepening when he noticed the microphone and the stunned cameramen a little further back.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry!” The man holding the microphone backed off, a sheepish grin on his face, one hand rubbing the back of his neck, “I keep forgetting that I don’t have eyes in the back of my head, no matter how good my peripheral is. You’re okay, right?”

“Y-Yeah.” Bucky felt like he’d completely forgotten how to breathe. It wasn’t that he was usually besotted by handsome men, but somehow, this one was different. He had the biggest, bluest eyes that Bucky had ever seen (and he knew Steve Rogers for Christ’s sake). His hair was messy, and the purple shirt that he was wearing, clung tightly to muscular biceps.

Bucky swore his knees went a little weak.

“Ummm… are you sure you’re okay?”

Bucky slowly nodded, before nervously clearing his throat. “Yeah ummm…” he gestured at the camera, “… reporter?”

“Clint Barton, with SHIELD news.” the man held out his hand, smiling when Bucky shook it, even if it was only briefly. SHIELD news was where Steve worked after all, which meant that he had to behave.

He couldn’t help but focus on the man’s smile… dimples. Dimples!

Bucky hated his life sometimes. It should be a cardinal sin to be a nosy reporter and be that pretty. Reporters were only slightly above paparazzi, skinheads and people who kicked puppies, and they had no right sending one that made his heart beat just a little faster.

“Can I ask you a quick question regarding this- “

“- No.” Bucky backed away, “Sorry, I don’t answer questions.”

He felt a little guilty at the pout on Barton’s face. “Not even a little one?” He almost sounded hurt by the rejection, and quite frankly, such a voice shouldn’t be allowed, “Nothing personal.”

“I honestly don’t care.” Bucky pushed down whatever he felt about Barton, feeling his insides start to boil, “I just want to get all this over and done with, and go home.”

“Oh, well if you’re sure I- “

“I am.” Bucky’s voice was clipped and cold.

“I won’t mention anything about the attack or- “Barton shut up instantly, eyes already squeezing shut in regret, cheeks flushing red.

Bucky’s eyes’ narrowed, zeroing on the flushed face.

“Alright.” Barton sighed, “That- that didn’t come out how I wanted it to.” He was a mess of pink now, tumbling and tripping over his own tongue, “But I- I just wanted to know more about you. Hearing the same questions repeatedly can be boring, and I promise I wasn’t going to ask anything about the attack, but- “

Bucky honestly felt like his blood was boiling in his veins as he glared at the other man. Not wanting to say anything he might regret, he turned and stormed into the venue, hearing a faint “Aww Clint no.” behind him.

Reporters were all the same. Handsome or not, they were all the same. Nosy fuckers who pried into your personal business to make sure they had the best story, that they were the ones earning the big bucks.

Who did Barton think he was? 

He had no right to go snooping to learn more about him.

He hated reporters. Handsome or not.

……………………………………………………………………………

“Hey, you’re… Barton, right? I thought you retired?”

Clint felt he was moving on automatic, a forced smile on his face, simply going through the motions as he asked the rest of the cast the standard questions.

He hadn’t meant any harm, truly! He knew he shouldn’t have mentioned anything about the accident, damn his brain sometimes!

It was an honest mistake, but James Buchanan Barnes was never going to understand that. As far as he was aware, Clint was just another reporter sticking his nose where it didn’t belong. He’d managed to burn that bridge forever and no apology was going to fix that.

Not willing to stick around until after the movie, Clint had slowly made his way home. He unlocked the door and made his way inside, leaning with his back against the door. Wearily, he scrubbed his hands down his face.

He should never have come out of retirement.

“I heard about what happened.”

Clint didn’t even flinch at the voice. Nat was like a cat, leave one window open and she was in there, eating your food and ready to scare you in the middle of the night. He was used to it by now.

“I told you, you should have sent Steve.” He groaned, “I basically admitted I was snooping around about his accident.” He then narrowed his eyes at her, “How did you hear about it?”

“Loki told me.”

“Snake.”

The insult might have been harsh… and too be honest, so was the tone. Clint had never really forgiven Loki for stealing a big story from him, even if Loki had handled it way better than he ever could. That silver tongue was good for getting information out of the toughest customers.

“Snake who was worried about you.” She slowly made her way over and sat down beside him, “You’ve had bad interviews before, what makes this one different?”

“He already hated me, just for being a reporter, and now he thinks I’m some kind of… stalker! I’m lucky I didn’t suffer Rumlow’s fate!” Clint buried his face in his hands, “Why do I let you talk me into these things?”

He could feel Nat’s hand rubbing gentle circles on his shoulder blades, as she sighed, “It’s not so bad… he encounters a lot of reporters. In the long run, he’s not going to remember you at all.”

“…. Thanks.”

………………………………………………………………………………..

“It was a nightmare, Steve!” Bucky flung himself down onto the sofa, wincing as a rattle dug into his back, “You should have seen him!”

Steve was so thankful that Tony had decided to take Peter out for a quick walk, “Bucky, please tell me you didn’t- “

“- I didn’t do anything!” Bucky snapped, eyes blazing, “Not. One. Thing! But I should have, after he snooped around in my past!”

“And he apologised, which most don’t!”

“That’s no fucking excuse!”

As his breathing got quicker and quicker, Bucky buried his face in his hands, prompting Steve to rush over.

“Breathe Bucky, breathe.” Steve gently instructed, “Deep breaths, just like we practised.”

“He stalked me!” Bucky snarled, “They’re not meant to ask about- “

“- I know, I know…. And it’s my fault.”

Bucky’s head shot up as he stared at his best friend, who was looking like he would have preferred the Earth to open him up and swallow him whole.

“I was the one who asked Nat to pull Clint out of retirement…” Steve sighed, “… He was one of the best, and after Rumlow, I wanted you to have the best. Looking back, I should have mentioned that you didn’t want talk about the accident, and then Nat would have told him, and this would never have happened and- “

“- and it wasn’t your fault.” Bucky grumbled, “Barton shouldn’t be sticking his nose into my business.”

Steve was right though, even if he didn’t want to admit it. Barton had apologised… looking back, the man did look ashamed at himself.

“Maybe… maybe I over-reacted.” He muttered reluctantly, “But he’s still a reporter! And reporters can choke as far as I’m concerned…. Even if they’ve got messy hair and eyes like a Disney prince.”

“… Eyes like a Disney Prince?”

Steve deserved every hit with the cushion.

He spent the next few days trying to get the image of the reporter out of his mind, trying to picture as every other reporter, fakes smiles, smarmy suit and faked interest. 

It didn’t work, and Bucky found himself thinking about the reporter alone in his flat one night. That smile… those eyes… the messy hair…. He was jus so pretty. He bit his own bottom lip, as his hand wandered lower and lower. When he finally realised what he was doing, he yanked his hand away from his disappointed cock.

“Stop it.” He growled at either himself or his cock, “You’re not having a fucking wank over a reporter, now pull yourself together!” he flung the covers to one side and stormed over to the shower, putting it as cold as he could tolerate. Afterwards, he put on his largest, softest sweatshirt and headed back to bed. He had just about erased all thoughts of the reporter from his mind and just about to drift off.

And then his phone buzzed on the bedside table.

From Steve; 

Heads up, it’ll be Barton interviewing you tomorrow, regarding your thoughts on the film.

Bucky groaned, “The universe hates me!”

………………………………………………………………………………………………..

“The universe hates me!” Clint banged his head against the kitchen table as Nat pushed a plate of scrambled eggs over to him, “Why do I have to interview him?!”

“I really don’t want to have to go over the reasons again.”

“I can’t see him again, I just can’t!” Feeling sick suddenly, he pushed the plate of scrambled eggs away from him.

It just wasn’t fair.

He’d spent the last few days trying to push all thoughts of Bucky Barnes out of his head…. Unsuccessfully, but at least he tried.

“There has to be someone else! I-I have a family emergency!”

“Barney isn’t even in the State.”

Ignoring how she knew this, Clint continued, “I have to take Lucky to the vet! He’s very ill!”

She glanced over at the dog, who was lying on the sofa on its back, tongue lolling out to the side. “Hmmm… try again.”

When Clint remained silent, Nat sighed and moved to sit by him. “You just have to face it… after this, I will never call on you again, I promise. You can retire in peace, and I’ll only ever bother you to remind you to actually eat some proper food.”

“…. Okay.” He raised his head from the table, and gave her a tired smile, “I can be professional for one more day. I might have fucked up last time, but I can do this…. Like a do-over!”

“Precisely, just be your charming self.”

“…. I hope you’re right about all this.”

Nat smirked, “Haven’t you learnt anything? I always am.”

The next morning, Clint decided that maybe a more casual look was in order. You couldn’t trust anyone in a suit (expect maybe Coulson, but that was it). Staring at himself in the full-length mirror, he adjusted his favourite purple t-shirt down over his hips. He then turned to the side, making he’d taken the tags and stickers off these jeans, having bought them months earlier.

Sue him, sweatpants were more comfortable.

But they didn’t make his arse look this good.

Eventually, he decided that he didn’t look too bad. He was going to make a good, professional impression, and there was no reason Bucky Barnes could be angry at him.

Making sure his hearing aids weren’t too obvious, he headed out the door.

“This is going to go well.” Clint reassured himself, “It’s a second chance, and it will go well this time.”

The sun was high in the sky, making him wish that the interview was being held outside or something. As he made his way into the indicated building, he watched from the window as Bucky Barnes’s motorbike turned off the main road and into the alleyway next.

It took several moments, but eventually, the door opened to reveal the actor, who had his hair tied back in a messy bun, sunglasses on his face. Clint felt himself go a bit breathless at the sight, nerves knotting in his stomach.

His second chance had just popped up.

“Hi Bucky, can I call you Bucky?” he said brightly, watching as Bucky paused, lowering his sunglasses down his nose and raising an eyebrow.

Silence.

Clint forced himself to smile brighter, feeling the dimple in his cheek, “Hope you’re having a nice day, especially with this weather, right?”

“Are- are you really asking about the weather right now?”

Clint felt the blush on his cheeks, curses flying around his mind, “Umm… yeah? I guess so? I’m not the best at small talk.”

The sunglasses were pushed back up, hiding the actor’s eyes, “I don’t suppose I can say I don’t really want you to talk to me at all.”

The tone was dismissive, and Clint ducked his head slightly, trying to hide the hurt on his face. “Well…” he muttered, “… I was always taught to treat everyone as I’d like to be treated. No matter what they say to me.”

It was a small dig, and Bucky seemed to sense that, straightening up a bit in indignation. Not quite as charming as Clint wanted to be, but he wasn’t going to let Barnes walk all over him.

Wiping the hurt off his face, Clint shot Barnes a shit-eating grin, which only seemed to make the actor angrier.

“Hey! Who do you think you are?”

“I’m the reporter who’s going to interview you as quickly as possible and get this over and done with for both of us.”

Bucky was speechless.

Clint felt slightly proud at himself for that, knowing that it was rare to stun Barnes like that. If he really had to do this, then he was going to have some fun at the same time. Hopefully Barnes would see it the same way eventually.

…………………………………………………………………………..

Bucky made his way over to the table in a daze. 

At first, he’d been angry… who did pretty boy think he was, saying something like that to him? The anger quickly softened into something akin to almost admiration… Barton was quick, didn’t take any shit, a vast contrast from their last meeting.

He seemed like he could keep up.

He tried to remind himself that Barton was still a reporter. Sweet as he might be, he was just as shitty as the rest. Taking a seat, he gripped the arm of the chair with his metal hand, knowing that this could be the interview that makes or breaks him.

The Cocoa Pops he’d had this morning were starting to swirl uncomfortably in his stomach. Before Barton could start the interview, already running through the whole spiel about recording the conversation for everyone’s peace of mind, Bucky spoke up.

“You’re an absolute menace, you know that right?”

Barton’s head snapped up so fast, that Bucky wondered if he’d hurt his neck. Gorgeous eyes widened, and Bucky really wished they wouldn’t do that… he looked like a damn Disney Prince.

“Oh?” There was the small hint of a smirk teasing Barton’s lips, “And how’s that?”

“You’re a reporter, firstly. You stuck your nose where you didn’t belong and don’t even seem to care about that! You’re a fucking menace!”

A smile broke out across the other man’s face, before he made a poor attempt at schooling his expression, “At least I’m not the douchebag with a thousand-dollar sunglasses on indoors. Do you have a loyalty card for Rich Pricks-R-Us? Frequent shopper card?”

Bucky felt a laugh threaten to bubble up, but he pushed it back down with a cough. “Clever. How much do you get paid per witty comment?”

“Not enough, as indicated by my run-down apartment.” Barton smirked, “I’d probably be able to afford sunglasses like yours if that were the case.”

Damn… that was another good retort. 

What was he even doing in the first place, interacting with a bloody reporter of all things?! Why was he even still sitting here?

“Shall we actually get started now?” Barton asked, “Or do you want to flirt some more?”

Dammit.

……………………………………………..

“What the absolute fuck is this?!” Clint whined as he listened to the tape back, “That’s flirting! That’s proper flirting!”

“I think it’s cute.” Nat chuckled, “How long has it been since you last had sex? Meaningful sex I mean.”

The last time was with Bobbi… but Nat didn’t need to know that.

Quickly excusing himself, Clint rushed to his room, throwing his hearing aids onto the bedside table (the perfect excuse for not hearing his friend knocking on the door). Sinking onto his bed, pressed his fingers against his temples, before throwing himself back against the pillows.

He was not getting involved with Barnes, and that was final.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

“This can’t go on Stevie!” Bucky huffed, pulling two beers from the fridge, “I won’t let it!”

Steve rocked Peter back and forth, frowning at his best friend as he refused the beer. “What exactly happened? You just rang and told me I had to come over right this moment!”

“I don’t know what happened or how, but I think… I think me and Barton were flirting.”

Steve blinked, “Bucky, I have to look after Peter, I can’t just- “

“- Peter is fine, and this is important! We were flirting!” Flirting! Me! With a reporter!”

“Well, you did say he was cute.”

“No, I didn’t!” Using his metal hand (much easier to than using a bottle opener), he cracked the bottle open and downed a couple of mouthfuls, “One minute I was trying to be professional with him, and the next I had butterflies. Fucking butterflies, Stevie! Because of some reporter!”

“Bucky, you’re being ridiculous.” Steve sighed, “Just breathe.”

He was ignored as Bucky continued to pace the room.

“You’re such a jerk.” Steve shook his head, “You need to figure this out Buck. You having feelings for a reporter is… unusual, so you need to figure out what you’re doing and what you want. Do you want to be with him? Because, if you do then- “

“No, I don’t want to be with him!” Bucky growled, “He’s an annoying prat.”

“With eyes like a Disney Prince?”

“I swear to god Stevie, if you weren’t carrying a baby, I would kick the cr- “

“- Language!”

“Hypocrite!”

Steve just smirked, “You’re the one who mentioned Disney Prince’s first… look, Bucky, you’ve been hung up on this guy since you met him. It’s not going to get any easier from here, and if Barton is the only reporter you can stand beside me, then you can expect to see him a lot more.”

“I’ve got this under control! I’m not gonna let him get in my head!” Bucky shrugged, “I just… don’t know what to do with him.”

“About him, or to him?”

Steve deserved the vicious poke, even if it did wake up Peter.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

He had a radio interview on Monday morning and Friday evening, with strict pre-approved questions. After an hour of struggling to sleep, Bucky grabbed his phone, deciding to search for recent articles on himself, specifically, Barton’s article.

If he could find an excuse to hate the man and prove that he was as big of a jerk as Bucky believed him to be, then maybe he would be able to make an excuse never to see the man again.

“Bucky Barnes; A Close Look at the Man behind the Mask.” By Clint Barton.

This looked interesting.

Bucky’s breath hitched as he read through the article. Not one nasty word said against him, no mention of his prosthetic, just his honest thoughts and feelings reflected on paper… well, screen.

This didn’t make any sense.

Barton didn’t make any sense.

Reporters didn’t care about the truth, they just wanted to be sensational! Sensational brought in the big checks. But this article was well-constructed, and a lot of care had gone into making sure Bucky was projected how he always wanted to be seen.

The Facebook search on Barton was the next logical step.

Professional archer who ran an after-school club for the local high school. No photos of parents, but there was some mention of a brother. He loved Dog Cops and had a dog of his own called Lucky, also known as Pizza Dog. He flicked through the countless photos of the man, with his friends (mostly Nat and a dark-haired girl), selfies with Lucky, random photos of targets (all with perfect bullseyes).

And he was always smiling, even in the one where he was lying in a hospital bed, bandages around his ears.

That explained the hearing aids.

Bucky then started scrolling through all the man’s posts, finding various one/two sentence posts with ridiculous questions, best toppings for pizza, etc.

And then he found the most recent status.

‘Interview time with THE Bucky Barnes!’

And now Bucky was beyond smitten.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Clint’s pillow was vibrating way too early, and he was convinced of this. Groaning, he slapped around his nightstand for his phone.

Quarter to four in the morning… because he supposed to be at the local radio station for another interview with Bucky.

Feeling an odd mixture of excitement and dread, Clint yawned and pulled his cleanest (or so he hoped) hoodie on sleepily. Part of him wanted to see Bucky, to banter with him again… and the other part wanted to run away and hide.

Running his fingers through his hair, trying to neaten it out even slightly as he ran out the apartment, giving Lucky a quick peck on the way. On the way, he tried to think of a thousand and one things to say to Bucky… he never should have crossed a boundary and flirted with the actor in the first place.

Maybe in another universe, where Bucky wasn’t a famous actor and Clint wasn’t a reporter, things would have been different.

Maybe they would have been superheroes.

But this wasn’t that universe, this was this universe and Clint needed to re-set those boundaries between them. As he arrived at the radio station, Bucky was also arriving, parking his motorbike and headed over to Clint, smiling brightly, so different from his usual demeanour.

“Hey!” Bucky waved, “We’ve gotta stop meeting like this.”

“Y-Yeah…” Clint tried to smile, knowing that it didn’t quite reach his eyes, “… I think I’m the go-to guy now.”

“Hell of a time for an interview, right?”

“Yeah… hell of a time.”

Bucky stopped in his tracks and turned to Clint, a frown on his face, which made Clint’s stomach sink. “What’s going on? Not in the mood to talk to me today? No wise cracks?”

“… I thought you’d appreciate that.”

“R-Right.” Bucky sent him a funny look, pulling the door open and heading inside.

Knowing that he had a few more moments to spare, Clint sunk down on the steps of the building, burying his face in his hands. If this were any other universe, he could allow himself to fall for James Buchanan Barnes.

He was going to be sick.

…………………………………………………………………………….

Bucky was going to be sick.

He felt off balance somehow.

Something wasn’t right with Clint and Bucky was bothered by that. He knew that they hadn’t had many interactions, but it was easy to see that something was wrong with Clint…. And Bucky wanted to fix that.

“All set?” the producer of the radio show asked, a phony beam on her face, as she waved Clint in, “Now remember, this is live, so I want everyone to be on their best behaviour. Keep it clean boys!”

Clint silently nodded, putting his headphones on.

The recording light switched on, and just like that, Clint was back. “Hey everyone, this is Clint Barton, your favourite reporter, speaking and I am here with James Buchanan Barnes, discussing the latest box office hit! Bucky, welcome to the station!”

“Thank you… happy to be here.”

“Now, I know that I’ve already gone over most of these questions during our last face to face interview, but I actually managed to think up some new ones last night, try and spice it all up a bit, but let’s go for an obvious one first…. How does it feel to be the most popular up and coming actor in America?”

“It’s… great actually. It’s been a long and difficult road, and I never expected all this positive attention. The film is fantastic and I’m glad that everyone is enjoying it so far.”

“Your character went through some difficult situations in this film, how hard was it to film something like this?”

Fingers drifting over to his prosthetic, Bucky took a deep breath, “It was…. Hard. But I think it was also therapeutic in a way.” This was more than he had ever revealed before, “The film has such an uplifting message, it was a reminder for me to look to the horizon when things feel like they’re all going wrong, because another day is coming.”

Clint actually looked stunned for a moment, “That’s… a wonderful thing to pass on to the viewers. I think everyone’s gone through hardships, and to know that someone like you has gone through the same thing… I think it’ll be comforting.”

There was an awkward silence, before Clint nervously cleared his throat, “Sorry about that, technical issues. So, a new question from your fans has been sent through… is there anyone special in your life?”

“No.” Bucky answered slowly, feeling something in his stomach stir as he leaned towards the mic, “I-I mean… there might be someone?”

“Oh?”

“Y-yeah, they’re… pretty… really, really pretty. It can’t go anywhere though, because- “He stopped in his tracks and focused on some unseen spot on the wall.

“Because?”

“… We’re just not suited for each other.”

Later, after the interview had come to an end, Bucky rushed to catch up to Clint before he could leave.

“Hey, hey, hey!” he called out, stopping Clint in his tracks, “What’s wrong? I-I mean, is something wrong with Lucky or- 

“- How do you know about Lucky?”

“You’re not the only one who can work a computer… I did a little research on you.”

“That’s… mildly unsettling.”

“Yeah, it should be.” Bucky frowned, “So, what’s up with you today?”

Clint ran his fingers through his hair. He looked miserable and Bucky felt a pang in his heart… he just wanted to wrap the man up and keep him close.

He used to feel like that about Steve, before that miraculous growth spurt.

“I just… don’t think I can do this anymore.” Clint whispered, “You know, the flirting and everything?” He took a deep breath, “You’re a celebrity, alright? I’m just a-a reporter, and y-you hate reporters! Everyone knows that!”

Bucky’s brows furrowed. He should be agreeing with him. He should hate him, just like he hated every other reporter…. But then there was the proof on Facebook. “Clint, no… that’s not… no, I- “

Shaking his head, cutting Bucky off, Clint cleared his shoulders, “We need to keep this professional… y-you’re a pay-check to me.”

Feeling like he’d just been slapped, Bucky resisted taking a step back. Nothing was making any fucking sense anymore. Why did this feel like a break-up? “Fine.” He sighed, “But you know what… maybe you should think about who I was talking about in there. That someone special.”

And with that, he stormed off, refusing to get angry or upset.

He couldn’t manage it.

…………………………………………………………..

“You did the right thing; you did the right thing.” Clint muttered to himself as he sped-walked home, “You should have stopped it before it grew, you did the right thing.”

But Bucky had looked so hurt.

And what was he talking about, someone special?

// “Y-yeah, they’re… pretty… really, really pretty. It can’t go anywhere though, because- \\\

And then it hit Clint.

Because they needed to be professional. Because Bucky usually hated reporters.

Clint stopped right in the middle of street, annoying several people in the process…. If Bucky was thinking about it as well- and he was retiring.

“Why is this my life?!” he groaned, moving over to the side, “Proper flirting and banter with someone who still thinks I’ve got my life together!”

When he finally managed to make it home, he made a beeline to his bedroom, kicking off his boots and shimmying out of his jeans and into something a little looser fitting. The perfect clothes for crawling under the duvet, taking out his hearing aids and blocking out the world until he knew what to do about the Bucky situation.

The hand on his shoulder knocked him out of his thoughts, the reassuring tap telling him that it was just Nat.

“Kill me.” He mumbled into the duvet, hoping that it was clear enough.

Carefully, she rolled him over until they were looking at each other, before signing to him, ‘You want to talk about it?’ she asked.

‘No… yes. Don’t know. I think I broke up with you know who.’

Nat didn’t laugh or cough or make any movement to suggest that she was surprised. Instead she handed him his hearing aids, waiting until he had them in and on, before placing a hand on his shoulder. “What happened Clint?”

“I told you we were flirting, and then I realised how unprofessional that was, so I told him that and- “

“- He didn’t take it well.”

“… You know you weren’t actually dating, don’t you?”

Clint knew the whimper that next came out of his mouth was pathetic, but he couldn’t help it, burying his face back into his pillow. “What am I going to do?”

“Well… we’re going to eat ice cream and watch that horrible Dog Cops show. Tomorrow, you’re officially retired, and I want you to go up to Barnes and invite him out for dinner.”

Clint shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut.

“You won me over Clint… I have every faith that you’ll win him over as well.” She ruffled his spikes, pinching his cheek lightly, before patting him on the back, “Come on. You’d better have some ice cream in after all this.”

……………………………………………………………..

“Come on! Up Robo-cop. We have ginger ale and pizza on its’ way!”

Bucky cracked an eye open, “Remind me why I gave you a key, oh wait, I didn’t!”

As Tony smirked, heading into the kitchen with Peter, Steve gave Bucky a concerned look.

“You haven’t answered any of my calls… what happened? We heard the radio interview, it seemed to go well?”

“Please be my personal reporter.” Bucky whined, “If I have to see his face again, so help me- “

“- Bucky- “

“- No more red carpets then. No more interviews ever! I’ll show up to act and that’s that… I might even retire.”

Steve remained silent.

“There’s just something about him though, Stevie.” Bucky threw an arm over his eyes, “He’s different. I know he is.”

………………………………………………………………………………

Bucky swore viciously when he spotted Clint entering the coffee shop. 

Why was this happening to him?

Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he stared down at it, pretending to be texting so as not to look the other man in the eyes. Of course, this meant that he wasn’t paying attention to where he was going, and the toe of his boot stubbed a crack in the pavement. His phone tumbled out of his hands and fell to the pavement below.

Before he could even process what had happened, a hand was reaching down and picking it up for him, checking it over for crack before handing it back to Bucky.

“Ummmm, it looks okay.” Clint shrugged, “I don’t see any cracks?”

“Yeah…. Thanks.” Bucky looked over the phone for himself, happy that Clint was right, “so, are you gonna be nice to me today.”

Clint flushed, one hand rubbing the back of his head sheepishly, “Bucky…”

“I was going to ignore you.” Bucky interrupted, “I was just going to walk right past you, but here we are.”

“I was a dick; I know that but- “

“- you were a bastard. After what you heard during the interview, you were a bastard.”

“Alright, alright.” Clint held up his hands in surrender, “I was a bastard, and I would talk it all back if I could.”

“You were wrong you know.”

“…. About?”

“You’re not like the other reporter or the paparazzi… you don’t push, you’re respectful and do you honestly think anyone else would have picked my phone off the ground? No one that I can think of, except for maybe Steve.”

“Well- “

“- what brought all that one anyway? We had a good time at the last interview.”

Clint was silent, prompting Bucky to sigh wearily.

“Meet me round back. I’m getting a coffee and then we’re going to talk about this.”

………………………………………………………………………………….

Clint was silent the entire time, not even asking where they were going as he was led through the back alleys and into a quiet café, where they were led into a booth.

“Now…” Bucky took a sip of his coffee, “… what happened?”

There was a moment of silence, before Clint sighed wearily, “I don’t know.” He admitted, “During that second interview, I felt like there was something between us, I just didn’t know what. We were flirting and bantering with each other, and it was obvious that there was a spark between us. I didn’t want to make a fool of myself again, so I thought it would be better to…. Make it professional again. You hate reporters, why should I be any different?” 

“So… you were trying to push me away?”

Clint nodded.

“… You’re an idiot.”

“W-what?”

“Who bloody says we can’t be together?”

Clint’s brows shot up, “Ummmmmm- “

“Who fucking says!” Bucky smirked at the stunned look on Clint’s face, “You said it yourself, we both flirted with each other, so why should we give this a chance? I know you’re not the same as reporters like Rumlow and the rest of them under Pierce’s thumb, not by a long shot. You’re a nice, decent guy Clint…. A bit clumsy and awkward, but decent!”

Clint shrugged, remaining silent.

“And aren’t you retired anyway? You could take up being a professional archer instead?”

“I-I-I- “

“- So, to sum this up. You’re not like the other reporters, and you’re not even a reporter anymore anyway.”

Clint felt like his head was spinning, “So… you want to try this?” He gestured at himself and then Bucky slowly.

“What do you think?”

Clint’s heart started to pound in his chest, “Bucky, I… don’t know what to say.”

“Nod, smile and agree… and then ask me out on a date.”

“Why can’t you ask me?” Clint pouted, “A girl needs to feel wooed you know.”

Bucky cackled, holding his hands up in mock surrender, “Okay, okay… will you go out with me? We can spend the whole day together, order some takeaway and just see what happens?”

“Like… a one-night stand without the sex that then lasted until the next day?”

Clint yelped as Bucky lightly kicked him in the leg.

“Wise-ass.”

……………………………………………..

They decided to go to Clint’s apartment, wanting to avoid the likely paparazzi that would surrounding Bucky’s. As they headed up the stairs, Clint spent the entire time apologising in advance for the state of his couch…. His living room… his apartment in general.

As soon as Clint opened the door, a big, golden retriever came barrelling towards them, jumping up at Bucky and licking his face in excitement.

“Lucky! Lucky!” Clint yelped, “Sorry, sorry, he’s a mess, sorry!”

“Nah, he’s a good boy! Aren’t you? Yes, you are! Yes, you are!”

Once Lucky had calmed down, the pair sat on the ratty, moth-bitten sofa, the silence growing uncomfortable after some time.

“So, why archery?” Bucky asked suddenly, “I mean… it’s a bit of a leap from reporting to archery.”

Clint winced, “It’s… a long story.”

Bucky just gave him an expectant look.

“I was raised in a circus.” Clint admitted, “Bad parents, persuasive brother, it’s… complicated. I was just the kid who swept up the rubbish from the acts, until a man called Trickshot figured out I had good aim. One thing let to another, and soon I was an archer.”

“And… the reporting?”

“Archery doesn’t pay much, and I needed something to do. It’s not like I was Olympic standards or anything.”

Bucky scooted closer across the couch, his knee bumping into Clint’s thigh. “Hey, no. None of that. I have no doubt you’re way better than all of them.”

He was stared at for a few moments, before Clint darted forwards, kissing him solidly on the lips.

Well… this was nice.

…………………………..………………………………………

The afternoon went like this – they ate together, curled up on the couch, feeding Lucky the occasional piece of pizza. Amongst teasing and banter, they exchanged lazy kisses, exploring each other’s mouths. Heated kisses with clashing teeth and bitten lips, followed by sweet, chaste kisses.

Now, they were making some hot chocolate, preparing a move.

“Don’t you have any marshmallows?”

Clint chucked, “Nah. Me and Lucky were playing chubby bunny the other day… I always win.”

“… You don’t have much milk either.” There was a cautious sniff, followed by a relived sigh as Bucky figured out that it was still in date, “Next time, remind me to pick up some chocolate sprinkles, whipped cream and marshmallows for next time.”

Clint’s tummy curled in excitement at the prospect of a next time, knowing that there was a flush on his cheeks.

“I should probably be going after this hot chocolate.” Bucky called out from the kitchen, “Early morning tomorrow and everything.”

Ah, yes. A press tour across the various chat shows.

“You’re going to miss your favourite reporter, right?” Clint called out.

“More than you know.” Bucky emerged, carrying two mugs, “I’ll be back to my usual moody self.”

After finishing their hot chocolate, Bucky pushed himself to his feet. “Walk me to the door?” he asked.

“Y-yeah! Sure!”

Together, they headed to the door. Bucky felt a little pang of sadness at leaving, but it was far too early to be having sleepovers.

“I suppose… this is goodnight then?”

“Good luck for tomorrow.” Clint gently pressed a kiss to Bucky’s cheek, smirking as the actor flushed slightly, stammering out a good night of his own, before leaving.

………………………………………………….…………………..

When Bucky’s alarm went off the next morning, he didn’t grumble once, flinging the sheets off to one side and rushing over to his closet to pick out an outfit.

Nothing could bring him down today, nothing.

When Steve called to remind Bucky about the interview, along with a subtle hint to behave himself, he was stunned to find that his best friend was already up and having some breakfast.

“Steve…” Bucky nervously began, before he left for the studio, “... you’re going to find something out, and you might not like it, but just know that I’m actually happy… very, very happy.”

“Bucky, what are you- “

“Don’t be too pissed off at me afterwards!”

Steve probably would have argued some more, but Bucky had already hung up the phone and hopped onto his bike, heading towards the studio. The wall of paparazzi were easy to spot, but one face stood out above the rest.

“Hey.” Bucky pushed past the others, focusing on Clint, “Don’t tell me you’ve joined the dark side now.”

Clint scoffed, glancing at the swarm of cameras. “No thank you. I can any story I want without following someone around with a camera.”

“Hmmm, want to give them a story to really talk about?”

“What?”

“You heard me. What do you think about this title… Famous Actor Bucky Barnes Seen Kissing Boyfriend Outside of TV Studio?”

Clint’s eyes widened in shock, just as Bucky grabbed his collar, yanking him forwards and kissing him right there in front of all the cameras, right among all the flashing cameras.

Really, it was no surprise it ended up on the front page of almost every newspaper… one of which was practically thrown at Bucky the following morning.

“I have a thousand and one things to say to you right now.” Steve frowned at him; arms folded over his chest.

“What did I do?!”

“Nothing…” The frown disappeared from Steve’s face, to be replaced with a fond smile, “… I haven’t seen a smile on your face like that in… years. If I knew this would happen, I would have had Nat introduce you to Clint years ago, hold onto him, okay? Tony can take care of the PR stuff.”

“Stevie… you’re my best friend.”

“You’re mine too, but seriously- “Stevie grabbed Bucky’s shoulder, “- you need to actually tell me about these things, instead of leaving it to the press.”

Bucky winced, “Yeah, of course.”

“And I’d like to properly meet him one day.”

“You got it Stevie.”

“And Peter could do with a friend one day.”

“Steve!”

………………………………………………………….

“I love you a latte.” Bucky read out, rolling his eyes, “You are such a dork.”

Clint smirked over the top of his own coffee, “That is an amazing pun and you know it.”

“Is it too late to cut my losses and run?”

Two years ago, that would have made Clint worry and start doubting himself. Now, he just cackled. “Yep, we’ve cried together when watching Dog Cops. It’s all official now.”

Bucky couldn’t deny that.

The phrase “I love you” had become natural to them. It was said whilst Bucky was cooking stir fry for them both (because no, you cannot have pizza every night). It was said when Bucky was backstage, getting ready for an interview. It was said when Bucky was forced to tickle Clint until he begged for mercy, after the archer had hit him with yet another Nerf gun bullet.

They said it after their first big fight, when Bucky found himself throwing the fact that Clint was a reporter back in his face when he was stressed, instantly feeling guilty at the hurt look on the other man’s face, pulling Clint into his arms and apologising over and over again.

They said it when Bucky was away for filming, only seeing each other through grainy webcams and Facetime, missing each other to the point where even those grainy images were enough.

They said it six months ago, when they snuck away to a local registry office, standing in front of a minister with their hands clasped together, promising to love the other for all eternity, Steve crying silently in happiness in the background.

When Clint finally opened up his own archery compound, teaching people of all ages and skill sets, Bucky kissed him at the ground opening and told him he was so proud of him, muttering the words into Clint’s ear as he kissed along the man’s jawline in front of all their friends, Clint murmuring it back as best he could.

And years and years later, when Bucky was shopping for the perfect present to give to Clint for their twentieth wedding anniversary, lights flashing outside at the paparazzi desperately tried to catch a photo of the newly retired actor.

Bucky could still remember part of his wedding speech.

“Don’t ever let preconceived notions of anyone hinder you from finding your greatest love. There is never a time or place for true love. It happens accidentally, in a heartbeat, in a single flashing, throbbing moment. It is not conventional, and often, the most unconventional loves are the most special, the most enduring and the strongest of all. Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.”

Bucky was in love, and that would never change.


End file.
